


Fluorescent Lights in the Dark

by Ebenaceae



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Background Abigail/F!Farmer, Background Relationships, Birthday Presents, Boys rambling about stupid things, Fair Games, Ferris Wheels, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Sam and Sebastian learn and come to terms with things about themselves, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vintage cassette decks, Zuzu City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebenaceae/pseuds/Ebenaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up in a small town is hard for Sebastian, and his life is grim because of it. Sam is determined to show him the better side of life, one way or another.<br/>A day before Sebastian's birthday, they spend a night in the city. Between boardwalks, cassette tapes, and girls with fake names, everything between them changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to [jay_pronounced_gay.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_pronounced_gay/pseuds/jay_pronounced_gay)  
> They're the person who prompted this and is a great person and friend!! Go check out their stuff!!
> 
> This was originally meant to be a oneshot, but as it got longer I decided to split it into chapters. Enjoy!

There was obviously something wrong, as far as Sam could tell.   
It wasn’t early, or late, just what seemed like an unusually sunny winter afternoon, which Sam didn’t mind. And yet, there would be a lot more unusualities that day. For one, Jodi hesitantly knocking on his door, calling him out of his room with an uncertainty to her voice that she almost never held. Then seeing Sebastian standing in the living room, though he never came over without warning. And to top it all off, Sebastian was absolutely never one to show vulnerability, not verbally or in his body language.    
Not if he could help it, at least. And yet…

Thus, when Sam came out to the living room and saw his best friend standing awkwardly, staring back, quiet and obviously distraught—not to mention with a lack of coat and winter boots, despite the cold and snow—he guessed pretty easily that something was wrong.    
Thankfully it seemed his mom, with her matronly omniscient empathy powers, did as well. She nodded to Sam, and with the quiet promise of hot chocolate for them being made, she left for the kitchen and let the two boys be alone. 

"Sup, my dude," Sam greeted casually. He regained his composure after his initial confusion and leaned against the wall, like any other day. "Come in," he offered.    
Sebastian wiped his face and looked away, responding with a nod. He kicked off his wet sneakers by the front door, seemingly unphased about how the snow had seeped through the canvas of his shoes. Sam couldn’t imagine that wet socks would be comfortable whatsoever.

“You want, like, slippers or something? Man, my mom always gets me like, the fuzziest socks ever. They’re bright neon, all fluffy, but I never really wear them. If you want…”

“Fuzzy socks? Hmm,” Sebastian seemed to loosen up at Sam’s lighthearted disposition, trying to give a small smile to his friend, though it seemed more like a wince. He moved from the door, going closer to Sam to talk quieter. “If a pair fuzzy socks are the entirety of my birthday gifts… I don’t know, I think I might have to pass.”

Sam had almost forgotten that, on top of it all, that winter afternoon was the day before Sebastian’s birthday. He’d never completely forget, obviously—they had been friends far too long for either of them to ever miss each other’s birthdays. Sam already had his real gift ready, though not counting the neon socks, apparently. 

There was something in him, though Sam couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, that made him look forward to gifting the small package, hidden away in a drawer. He supposed he was just excited to celebrate. 

Parties were absolutely his thing, after all. 

But before Sam dealt with livening up Sebastian’s birthday, and ruining it after too many potential drinks, he had to deal with Sebastian himself. 

Sam and Sebastian left the living room, slipping in the boy’s bedroom. They ended up sitting on Sam’s bed, and although Sebastian then adorned a pair of Sam’s neon pink fuzzy socks after a minute of Sam’s insistence, he still didn’t look much happier. Instead, he remained solemn and silent. 

Sam wasn’t sure how to break the ice. “So, like, are you psyched for tomorrow or what? I mean, no spoilers or anything, but Abs and I  _ may  _ have gotten Gus to allow us to bring our own cassette player and music instead of just listening to the jukebox, holy crap, right?” He nudged Sebastian’s arm with his own, trying to elicit a reaction. “And… I’m pretty sure that Caroline  _ may  _ or  _ may not be  _ baking something for the occasion,” he grinned. 

Sebastian turned to him, his lips pursed and brows knit, his whole face tense. “She doesn’t have to,” he stated. “Why… why would she? Not that I’m… unthankful or anything, but…” Sebastian trailed off, looking back to the floor.

Sam pulled a face, cocking his head in confusion. “Seb, dude, you do remember that it’s your birthday, right? Like, it’s a birthday? People bake, like, cake ‘n shit, and you’re supposed to celebrate?” Sam joked, waving his hand animatedly as a veneer trying to mask his confusion. 

The other boy raked back his black hair and took in a deep breath, looking from the carpeted floors to the wood ceiling, inhaling the air-freshener affected, relatively clean air. Cleaner and fresher than the staleness in his own room, at least. No doubt a product of Jodi’s insistence, Sebastian had seen how adamant Sam’s mom could be about keeping all of their house clean. Robin wasn’t like that. Sebastian, after living under her vague, lax care, really didn’t know if that was good or bad. 

He took a moment to answer, left contemplating his mother, of all things. 

Finally, he did tilt his head in Sam’s direction, his eyes shifting to the blond. “Celebrating is futile, isn’t it?” He asked, and even though he seemed sincere enough, it didn’t keep Sam from comparing him to an emo e-card from the last decade in his head. 

“The fuck, dude,” he snorted. 

Sebastian frowned, straightening out and actually shifting to face Sam. He brought a foot up on the bed, the pink of Sam’s borrowed sock clashing against the mustard yellow comforters. 

It would be more interesting to ignore the topic of his birthday and chide Sam for his colour choices, but he didn’t think it would be appreciated. He shrugged instead. “I’m just thinking. People party and everything, celebrating getting older. Why?” He sighed. “Why do I want to feel good about getting older? It’s only more stress and more pressure and more thoughts about bleak, inevitable futures—why should I be fucking happy about that?”

Sam felt his stomach drop, malcontent. “What happened?” He fiddled with the sleeves of his old, starchy jacket. It was obvious there was an incident. Otherwise, Sebastian wouldn’t have come to him with a waver in his voice and with his breath smelling more of cigarette smoke than it usually did. 

“Fucking guess,” Sebastian cringed, dipping his head. He broke the eye contact between them, not handling it well, and scoffed as if he were annoyed.

“You should tell him off, one day,” Sam said. Any joviality melted from his face instantaneously as unspoken subject of Demetrius reared its ugly head. 

It was no secret that Sebastian didn’t have a particularly decent relationship with his step-father, strained and sometimes destructive. Sam only wished it would stop—seeing Sebastian in states of disconcertion and loathing was… unsettling.

“Yeah, shit, imagine that. That’d go over…  _ really  _ fucking well, wouldn’t it?” Sebastian sneered, trying not to roll his eyes at his best friend. He knew he was at least better than  _ that.  _ “I’m standing there, taking the brunt of so much goddamn complaining about my future, listening to so much shit about how Maru’s gonna go off  _ somewhere...  _ how exactly am I supposed to counter that? Talk shit about her to her father’s face?”

“He has no right to talk to you like you’re second rate or some shit, though,” Sam frowned, “Are you kidding? Just… you’re making a living already, aren’t you? Is that not good enough?” he shook his head in disbelief. “Robin must understand that.” 

“Nothing’s ever good enough. For the both of them, it feels like. Sometimes.” Sebastian loved his mother, as she had been the one thing in his life that had ever stayed constant. She loved him back, almost always on his side, but as time went on, Sebastian felt like… she just became more and more of the devil’s advocate. It was more than disheartening. “My mom suggested a community college. Just something small. Said it would… help me on my feet. Even though I’m fine. That maybe I could get some job offers, aside from the ones I have now, apparently. Who knows, maybe I’d even find a nice girl.  _ Sure,”  _ Sebastian snorted cynically. “‘Cause we all want that.” 

Sam felt particularly defensive at the prospect of Sebastian leaving, working, finding a girlfriend… Sam knew he was selfish, because even though he knew that they would leave eventually, Sam never thought that they leave separately. He and Sebastian both wanted to leave Pelican Town and never look back, why did they have to leave each other and their ideological musical fantasies behind?

“But it’s like, I sure as hell don’t want that. At all… point fucking is, I’m not gonna argue with my mom, I’m not gonna argue with fucking Demetrius, I really would just rather face it like a grown-up, and… fuck, there’s that word again. I keep hearing it today.”

“Grown-up?” Sam repeated, “That’s a dirty word. You’re probably looking for  _ young adult;  _ it’s just a fancy way to say kid. And that’s what we are. We’re still just… young, dude,” Sam said, nudging Sebastian’s knee. He tried giving a comforting smile, “Like, shoot, Sebastian—we still play tabletop RPGs.”

“The Solarian Chronicles is for advanced players, man, you know that,” Sebastian muttered. He shook his head as if to get himself back on track. “I’m not a kid, though. You’re not either. We haven’t been kids since… since we  _ grew up,”  _ Sebastian tried to reason. 

There was a knock at Sam’s door that startled Sebastian, making him jump and turn in surprise, almost slipping off Sam’s bed, but Sam only stood up and walked to the door normally.

“Shit, Sebastian. It’s still healthy to have some fun, you know?” Sam shrugged. “Okay, look, you know what adults  _ do not  _ do? Like ever? Drink hot chocolate. I have never seen my dad drink hot cocoa. Not once. In my entire life,” Sam nodded sagely.

“But… your dad is a seasoned war veteran… I just don’t think... ” 

Sebastian shut his mouth as Sam let Jodi into the room. Arguing then would be pretty pointless, and instead, he let himself fall back onto the bed with a sigh. He looked up at the ceiling again, defeated. However, laying down, Sebastian didn’t see Sam talk to Jodi under his breath as he took the mugs, and he didn’t see Jodi’s enthusiastic nod and warm smile she gave in return. So Jodi left and the door shut, Sebastian waited for Sam to calmly return and hand him his drink. 

The calmness didn’t happen.

“Alright, Vegeta,” Sam said in a voice stern and clear enough to mimic his dad’s, “Get your angsty monkey-tailed ass up and finish this. We have no time for hot cocoa. We gotta down it and jet.”

Sebastian sat himself up with a face of sluggish confusion, facing Sam, looking as serious as his voice suggested, while holding out a Winter Star-themed mug. Sebastian stared wide-eyed at Sam’s sudden austerity, hesitating before finally taking the hot chocolate.

“Where… where are we supposed to be going, exactly?” Sam hadn’t mentioned anything about going out on that date, not to the best of Sebastian’s recollection. 

Sam seemed to pause in thought for a second, his demeanor melting as he cracked a smirk. “It’s, you know, something… someplace. You’ll see,” he winked.

Sebastian relaxed, sighing from his nose. “Oh. So it’s just a surprise?” He was mostly relieved that he hadn’t forgotten something important they were supposed to do—though he was slightly worried about what the surprise would entail. Sam was usually… inventive, a little _unpredictable,_ especially when it came to surprises. 

Sebastian wouldn’t say he was  _ scared  _ of what a ‘surprise’ could be right before his birthday, but…

“It’s not  _ just  _ a surprise!” Sam argued. He gave a face of disgust, but took a moment to sip his cocoa. “It’s special! Stop trying to downplay this stuff for the drama, you angsting K-Pop douchebag idol,” Sam sneered. 

Sebastian raised a brow. The hot chocolate moustache above his lips coupled with the insults that lacked  _ insult _ made it hard to take Sam seriously. “I… right. I’m excited, then,” he said with a straight face. 

Sam narrowed his eyes. 

“Don’t give me that look, man. I’m so thrilled. Can’t wait.” Sebastian’s monotone face only broke when he finally took a sip from his own drink. It was scalding, but delicious. So worth the pain. 

“Just be quick about finishing that, alright? I’m antsy. I want to go like, immediately,” Sam said, finally sitting back down. 

“What? No! This is stupid hot, I can’t just  _ down it—” _

“And you call yourself the Prince of all Saiyans,” Sam harrumphed. 

“I… wait. Why do I have to be Vegeta?”

With a small frown, Sam unexpectedly gave a look of disappointment. “Don’t lie to me, dude. I  _ know  _ that you and Abigail talk about my hair behind my back. I’ve  _ heard  _ you giggle about calling me Goku and shit.”

“Oh. Makes sense.” Sebastian couldn’t actually argue that. He gave a satisfied nod and shrug before looking down to his drink, away from the offendedly gawking, hot chocolate drinking, rockstar Goku. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me here: [I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com)  
> Come say hi!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys being awkward being boys.

In Sebastian’s opinion, they drank their hot chocolate at a perfectly reasonable, slow, non-harmful speed. Sam, however, was far too antsy to consider the time they took reasonable at all. He was excited, and reasonably so: if all went well, Sebastian would be able to forget his maltreatments as if nothing had happened at all. 

Sam ushered them out of his room afterwards, telling Sebastian to borrow a pair of shoes from him—they wouldn’t need boots. Sebastian was still thrown a jacket—black, of course—to save him from the outside chill, Sebastian catching it awkwardly in his arms after Sam chucked it at him with no warning. 

In a brief moment of thought, Sam zipped back to his bedroom while Sebastian tied his shoes. In opening the middle drawer of his dresser, Sam moved around a couple shirts, his face lighting up when he found exactly what he was looking for: a small box, wrapped in brown paper, a few inches long ending up not much bigger than Sam’s phone. 

As-fucking-if he had the salary to buy a new, nice phone, though. Especially as a gift. He’d probably be blowing his whole two weeks pay on the night he had planned, anyway. 

It sucked, being a struggling musician with a minimum-wage labor job at a store of the most soul-sucking company in the world, but… Sam made it work. Or at least, he tried to. 

He slipped the package into an inside pocket of his jacket, and took his wallet and hastily made his way back to Sebastian. 

“Well, let’s go, then,” Sebastian said in a simple breath, almost in a small sigh—a melancholic voice Sebastian had somehow perfected in his years. Yet it didn’t hide the interest in his eyes, especially as Sam took the keys to his family’s truck from where they hung by the door.

They left, Sam exiting second with a yell to his mother from the door signalling their leave. Outside was still crisp and cold—the sunniness of the day having no impact on the snow and temperature, especially as the sun began its early path to set. Sebastian shivered, bracing the cold after the warm rooms and hot drink, and he ended up burying himself deeper into Sam’s borrowed jacket. It smelt like him, Sebastian noticed, the scent of brand-name body wash that Sam always used in the fabric that was likely never washed. That was a little gross, honestly. But otherwise, Sebastian thought that maybe… maybe it was a little endearing. Just a bit, while he was wrapped in it. 

Sebastian realized that he had spaced out at the same time he realized it was awkward to think Sam endearing. When he looked back up, he could have easily pull off the embarrassed red of his face on the temperature. He just hoped he wouldn’t be called out on it at all, particularly when he felt himself flush deeper when he moved to look at the subject of his intrusive thoughts. The thoughts he really didn’t want to think too long or too hard about. 

Luckily for him, they didn’t last. Sebastian realized they were missing something as Sam clambered in the driver seat and started the engine. Or, some _ one,  _ for that matter, taking his attention.

“Wait.” Sebastian paused, hesitating to get into the truck. “What about Abigail? Is she not coming?”

Sam looked at him surprisedly, as if he hadn’t even thought of her. “Oh,” he muttered, leaning back into his seat. “I, well… this was a way more spur of the moment thing…” his mouth pointed downwards in a disappointed frown. “She’s busy today, anyway. I tried to get her to hang out, but… you know what? She’s supposedly hanging out with the farmer today. All day, today—hey! Get in already, I’m trying to get it warm in here.”

Leaving the door hanging open probably didn’t help much, so Sebastian rolled his eyes and forced himself to comply. He hopped in and shut the door, allowing Sam to graciously shield them from the elements. 

“Are you surprised?” Sebastian commented as he settled himself in. “I’ve literally never talked to Abigail about her love life, I probably never will—but even I know Abigail has a thing for her.”

“And vice versa, if the constant heart-eyes she makes whenever Abi’s around mean anything,” Sam sighed. The farmer was friendly to their trio, but had always worn her heart on her sleeve. It made her kind but obvious, cute but sometimes overbearing. She also had the habit of whisking Abigail away on little ‘adventures’, but if it made Abigail happy...  

“So I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re together already. Or, I think they will be, very soon,” Sebastian suggested. 

Sam hummed an affirmative, concentrating on finally getting them out. It was tricky, trying to get to the main road in winter. 

Thankfully, they made it without slipping out. It was pretty unsurprising, though, since Sam’s family’s truck was built sturdy, always with good tires. Sam loved it, but only because of its age—it had a  _ cassette deck.  _ Sebastian figured that was really Sam’s favourite thing about it. 

Sebastian rummaged through the console storage, fishing for a good tape to play. He was looking between two cassettes when Sam piped up again, after they had exited the dark tunnel. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” Sam asked, glancing over for half a second, catching Sebastian’s eye. 

Sebastian was confused, though. “No? I like these mixtapes. These are the ones  _ we  _ made, remember?” 

Sam grunted, keeping his eyes on the road. “What? No, not that. But—play the second one, I like it better,” he said quickly, trying to get the subject to pass. “I was trying to ask about… you know. Abigail.”

“Sorry, what about her?” Sebastian asked curiously. He put the first cassette in the deck rather than the second, primarily just to elicit a reaction from the blond. Sebastian watched triumphantly as Sam rolled his eyes when the first song began playing. 

Sam otherwise ignored the music. “Abigail, like… she… she likes, uh, the farmer,” Sam started, trying not to wince as he stumbled on his words. “And how, like, they’re both, like…”

Sebastian couldn’t help but raise a brow at the question Sam was trying to ask. Sebastian never exactly hung out with Abigail too often, and they weren’t that great of friends, but he would never think less of her for who she dated. And god, he hoped Sam didn’t either. 

“Girls.” Sebastian stared at Sam for his reaction. “They’re both women, Sam.” 

Sam bit his lip, trying to glance at Sebastian every few moments. “Like, yeah. Exactly that! Do you think that’s… weird, in any way.” 

“No, Sam. Christ. Why would I?” 

“Wait, no, it’s not like that,” Sam stuttered out, eyes going wide as he realized his poor choice in words. “I just mean, I, uh, never knew anyone like her! Not… super personally, I think. I’m just saying, I’m glad Abigail is… like that. You know.” He swore under his breath—Sam realized he shouldn’t have even opened his mouth. “I  _ mean  _ that I’m, just, happy for her. She deserves someone nice. Gotta… stick up for her ‘n everyone else, right?”

Sebastian calmed down considerably, settling back into his seat. “Oh. Yeah, uh… good. Right. Stick up for…” he trailed off, pausing for a beat. “‘And everyone?’ What, you know a lot of, ah, her type in town?” 

Sam’s face fell a little, his jaw clenching visibly. If he weren’t in the middle of driving down an icy, barely-salted road, he might have went still. 

“Sam?”

“I was just thinking,” Sam was quick to say. “No. No, I don’t think I do,” he added, almost just as fast. It was true that he was thinking, but not about others. 

Sam decided there was a time and place to talk about personal things, but travelling fast down a wintery road decidedly wasn’t it. He would never lie to his friends, especially his best friend, but Sam didn’t exactly want to become too distracted by… certain topics. Especially as the snow began to thin out as they approached the neighboring desert, and Sam started going too far over the speed limit to take his attention off the road. 

“Well… I don’t know. Now that you got me thinking about it…” Sebastian clicked his tongue, mulling over his thoughts, “Leah. Like, I’m almost completely certain. I’ve seen her interact with a man, like, twice. Both times were Elliott, and both times were at mandatory festivals.”

“Dude.” That answer caught Sam off-guard, making him snort unattractively. “That’s… hilarious, dude. And… probably true? Mysterious artist forest lesbian,” he laugh. “Okay, wait. Like, Willy and Marlon, right?”

“I… what? Willy and… that adventurer?”

“Yeah! Uh, aren’t they… married or something?” Sam pulled a face and shrugged when Sebastian gave a small laugh of disbelief, “I swear I’ve heard that somewhere! I’m not kidding!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’ll be happily spending their anniversaries fighting monsters in the Gem Sea,” Sebastian snarked, looking at Sam with an incredulous eye.  

Sam flustered. “Okay, no, shut up, I pretty much  _ know  _ they’re married. They gotta be. Willy and Marlon.  _ Marlon.”  _

“What’s the big deal about Marlon?”

“Marlon’s a type of fish! And Willy’s a fisherman! It  _ fits!”  _ Sam explained exasperatedly. 

Sebastian took a moment to let Sam’s words sink in, staring at him with slow blinks. “Shut the fuck up, dude.” He attempted to roll his eyes so hard Sam could feel them, even as he drove. “So… what about… the doctor. Is he married to some adventure man?”

Sam’s frowned turned into a thin line as he thought. “Harvey? Is he  _ gay?  _ I don’t know, man. I’ve only ever seen him around your sister, I thought they had a thing.”

“Gross,” Sebastian sniffed. “He’s her  _ boss.  _ Wouldn’t that be, you know, illegal?”

“Shit, how would I know?” Sam laughed. “I’m not exactly planning to have an affair with  _ my  _ boss, I haven’t exactly looked into that stuff,” he joked, “Although, ever since we’ve gotten Joja Bluu, I’ve really been honing my sexy pun skills. This would be the perfect time to use them: ‘Oh, sexy Mr. Morris, giver of my paychecks, you wanna be  _ Joja Blew?’” _

_“No,”_ was Sebastian’s choked-out response. He snorted, his hand flying to cover his mouth as he heaved in silent laughter, turning away from Sam so he wouldn’t see. Sebastian tried suppressing his cackling, his throat almost burning from the air he kept down. He grinned into his palm, shaking his head. 

Putting his forehead against the window, still away from Sam while he convinced himself to settle down, it was only then Sebastian noticed that Sam wasn’t slowing as they drove through the desert, rapidly approaching the only stop. “Are we stopping at the Oasis?” Sebastian asked, growing even more doubtful as he turned back and watched Sam grow a suspicious-looking grin.

“Uh, no, actually! Good guess though, even if you were basically completely and disastrously wrong,” he teased. “I wouldn’t have minded a tall glass of cactus fruit juice, though. But sadly, that’s not what we’re doing. Not today, at least…” he got quiet and ended his sentence, eyes following the Calico Desert Oasis building as they suddenly passed it, going through the quiet desert hamlet. “That’ll be for another day,” he promised himself.

Sebastian looked at Sam surprisedly as they passed the desert. The next stop was a few hours away. “Are we going to Zuzu City?” 

“Pff, what?” Sam scoffed unconvincingly. “What are you… Zuzu?  _ City?  _ What! Why would we ever…” he chewed his lip for a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Well, yeah, actually. Cool, right?”

The surprise didn’t seem to impress Sebastian much, especially not as he lit up the LCD screen of his smartphone and saw the time. “It’ll be dark when we get there,” he muttered, telling Sam as if he didn’t know. Sam was smart though, and Sebastian didn’t expect him to pull something like that unless on purpose…

“And that will make it all the better,” he said with confidence, punctuating with a nod. He glanced at the dashboard clock and smiled, his eyes growing warm. “It will be so much fun, trust me.”

Unsure, Sebastian shrugged. “Man, I don’t want to go to a club again,” he sighed. They were too public, too busy, too impersonal. Sebastian would fully prefer to stay with Sam and not be left at the corner of a bar that he wouldn’t even buy a drink at, if he had any say in the matter.

Although he didn’t, he apparently wouldn’t be unsatisfied.

“Again, I wouldn’t mind some trip like that, but… not  _ my  _ birthday, dude!” Sam huffed. “Relax and don’t worry, you won’t be mad. At least, I hope you won’t be mad. Even if you are, well… nevermind! Because you won’t be. Even if you don’t like the place all that much, you won’t be paying for zip. And how can you get mad at that?” Sam reasoned lightheartedly. 

He was incredibly excited, himself. It had been a last-minute decision and he couldn’t have been happier with what he thought of—he liked it, at least. There was a definite chance that Sebastian hadn’t even been where Sam was taking him…

Because even if Sebastian didn’t know it, Sam felt positive that the Zuzu City boardwalk was the actual best part of the whole city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me here: [I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com)  
> Come say hi!
> 
> This chapter was short since I didn't originally plan to split up the parts but the length of the next chapter will make up for it! óuò


	3. Chapter 3

The trip down the highways and freeway to the city didn’t end up seeming that long at all.

Between good music, good company, and doing 30 over the speed limit while they were still in police-free zones, they made record time. Sam felt satisfied as they entered the city, even as they merged into slow inner-city traffic. Though it was dark, it was still busy in Zuzu City. The populace never seemed to die down, which, despite being a hindrance to their speed, caused the streets to glow with neon lights under the dark sky. 

Sam looked around in appreciation whenever they had to stop. After living in such a small, rural town, it was basically a delight to have some reprieve in the red, synthetic luminescence in the multitude of tail lights lined up ahead of his truck. Based on the millions of times he, Sebastian, and even Abigail had fantasized about moving far, far away from the farmland, Sam easily assumed that Sebastian felt the same way about being where they were. The man gave his tells easily, and Sam would correctly assume Sebastian’s interest as they carved their way through the downtown roads by the way he looked at the sights outside; the shops, the signs, and the people all held an aesthetic to them that they both barely knew and rarely experienced outside of themselves. But of course, they always wanted to. 

The only thing preventing Sebastian from leaning his forehead on the passenger window as they drove was the night’s cold bleeding through the glass. The cold was dulled in the city but still there: the temperatures high enough to not have snow or force people into parkas, but still low enough that Sebastian was clearly able to see the warm puffs of air from the mouths of the city’s inhabitants as they walked by.

Finding their way through Zuzu wasn’t difficult. It was easy enough for Sam—after all, to reach the boardwalk, all he had to do was get to the waterfront. When he rounded the last corner, breaking through the line of ubiquitous city highrises, the boardwalk was in plain view: trailing the beach, lit up under the dark sky, and creating noise pollution of music and people and crashing waves.

Sam was already elated. Grinning from cheek to cheek, he looked over to Sebastian, carefully driving to one of the paid-parking areas. 

Sebastian looked on with wide eyes and raised brows, which Sam only perceived as good. “Dude…” Sebastian muttered, blinking slow.

“Fuck yeah,” Sam laughed in return, giddy. He reached over and stopped the cassette player, letting them hear the joyous noises of Zuzu City’s carnival boardwalk.

While Sam took in the atmosphere as he parked, Sebastian felt a lot less elated. “No, I mean…  _ dude.  _ What? We’re going… here? What the fuck?” As his typical reaction to surprises more exciting than his food tab being paid off at Gus’, Sebastian recoiled immediately.

There was something about being treated out so nicely that was almost off-putting to Sebastian. As he grew older and more cynical, and after growing up in a family that he felt barely cared about him, he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt when confronted with something that was supposed to be so… special. When was the last time he went to something like  _ the boardwalk,  _ of all things? He legitimately didn’t know, and he didn’t know how to react. 

He looked over to Sam, meaning to protest. Before he could, however, he noticed and took in the unfiltered, genuine happiness he held. Sebastian shut his mouth. Sebastian could plainly admit that he was a scornful bastard to most—he fully believed himself to be one of the worst people in Stardew Valley. Yet he didn’t think he was ever that much of a jerk to Sam. Especially not him. He trusted him, greatly, which was more than he could say about certain members of his own family. 

So he shut up, swallowing back his pessimism, and let Sam have his night. 

“Ah, screw off, Seb.” Sam rolled his eyes but kept his smile, his words not said with any sort of venom to them. “Before you say basically fucking  _ anything,  _ let me explain. And… before I explain, let’s start heading over. Don’t be such a Negative Nancy or else I’m not driving you home,” he threatened. Sebastian wasn’t actually sure if he serious or not. But because he had no cab money, he complied, slipping out into the parking lot. Sam locked up, went around the front, and slapped Sebastian’s shoulder to get him moving. “Like I was saying,” he continued, “I  _ guess  _ I owe you an explanation or something. So… Sebastian, you sounded like you were like, forty or something back home. Which was crazy, so—”

“Your explanations are apparently not explanatory enough, asshole,” Sebastian interrupted. “Start with what you mean by  _ forty.” _

“What? Oh, that’s jank. Sorry. Forty, as in, you were talking like you were some old asshole on the last legs of his life complaining about how he misses his childhood, life is always unfair, fun is dead and we killed it, whatever else Nietzsche quotes you can think of. You feel?” Sam shrugged casually, walking right on the curb. It felt like he might have been able to touch the cars as they passed by if he only reached out a little, but he seemed unphased by it. 

Sebastian, more concerned about getting hit in a drive-by, opted to walk beside him on the actual designated sidewalk to the beach. “I’m going to have to stop you there,” he sighed. “Do you think forty is old? Enough to be on your last legs of life?”

“Yeah,” Sam said bluntly.

“How old are your parents?”

Sam snorted. “I forget when their birthdays are in the year, I don’t know shit about their ages.” He shrugged again. “And I meant us. Or just me, alone, if you actually  _ can _ produce a vague image of yourself when you’re forty. That’s such an awful seeming number, isn’t it? And anything after it just sounds… tragic.” Sam looked off in the direction of the sea, and Sebastian wasn’t sure if he was being somber or just trying to figure out where the moon was hiding in the sky behind the thick, dark clouds. “I dunno if I’ll last that long. How can anyone be sure? Live each day as if it were the last before your bank account runs dry, and whatever other Marx quotes you can think of. Wait, is that Marx?”

After a second of contemplation—and melancholy agreement—Sebastian tried to divert the conversation back on track. “So why am I at a beach in the middle of winter?” He asked abruptly, seemingly jarring Sam out of his thoughts as the blond stumbled on one of his steps. 

“Sorry, forgot. I’m, uh, not taking you to the beach. It’s too cold. But all the attractions, games, fun shit… it’s to get you from forty to your actual age,” he smiled. He got back on the curb. “Just… for a  _ night,  _ not even a full day, enjoy yourself? Please? For your birthday. It actually made me… sad, I guess, to see you so upset,” he admitted. “I don’t even like saying that.” Due to the constant relaxedly-upbeat tone that he kept, and as he was able to keep it even during his more solemn moments, Sebastian started to wonder how often his cheeriness was a farce. 

The thought sobered up Sebastian. “I… yeah. Wow. No, man, you’re right, I guess. I just… I don’t know. I didn’t bring any cash on me,” he said meekly. Although he meant it as an excuse for being reluctant, he genuinely had nothing but his phone on him. The fault was on Sam, he supposed, for not getting him to go back home for money. 

Apparently, money didn’t end up being much of a problem for him. Not when Sam enthusiastically took out his plain, cracked-leather wallet and waved it as if it was encrusted with diamonds. “Payday,” was all he offered as an explanation. 

By then, they had reached the main entrance arch. The whole stretch of beach was illuminated fluorescent and neon. It was almost like daylight, and though it wasn’t actually that late, with the winter elongating the nights, the atmosphere was still treated like it was late. That is to say, from what Sebastian could see, young adults and teenagers filled the whole area. 

He glared at them and sighed in disgust, purposely exaggeratedly so Sam would notice. He wouldn’t outright complain about being there, sure, but Sebastian was definitely going to make Sam get an earful of how much he fucking despised the loud kids that surrounded them, smelling of snuck-in cheap beer and disappointment. 

“You can’t criticize the freaks and weirdos if you are, yourself, a freak and or weirdo,” Sam said with a nudge of Sebastian’s shoulder. “Just stick together and we won’t get drowned in these arguably worse crowds of ne’er-do-wells.”

“Hopefully we’ll blend in enough that we don’t get targeted,” Sebastian grumbled, “And get openly, horribly, and embarrassingly beat at a hoop-shooting game by one of these groups of teenage gremlins.”

Sam pursed his lips, trying to think of a response. “Yeah, dude, that’s exactly… sort of exactly what I mean. I think.” He absentmindedly wondered if  _ teenage gremlins  _ could be effective lyrics in one of the band’s songs. It sounded cool, but rhymed with gremlin? “Even with freshmen—oh, hey, that works—crawling all over the place, if we stay to ourselves, we’ll be fine,” Sam assured. 

They continued walking with the crowds, and Sam looked at just about everything that they passed. To a lot of people, especially the summer tourists and kids, the Zuzu City boardwalk was one of the best parts of the whole city. Lined parallel with the beach, facing the huge expanse the Gem Sea, it was a vibrant and lively place. And luckily, because it barely ever actually snowed in the city, the attractions were year-round. 

Sam hadn’t been to it in the winter before, though. The rare times that his father decided to go beyond the desert and to the city, from what he could remember, were solely in summer. But he remembered loving it with a passion—he could run from the water to the ferris wheel with ease, being at such a close distance that was mind-staggering for a kid. Or maybe it was just him that found it awesome. Sam was sure that his parents had less fun running between the beach and boardwalk every time he changed his mind on what he wanted to do. It made for memories of his family together that he always held on to, especially when the war got rough.

Winter, though, was unexplored territory. With no chance of swimming, surrounded by far less people, and in a more mature, intimate atmosphere, it was whole new ground for fun shit. Especially with Sebastian—any kind of shit he and Sebastian pulled was always great. But Sam realized Sebastian probably didn’t even  _ have  _ many good times with his family to reflect back on. Especially not at the beach. 

So Sam was definitely determined for them to have a good time. 

“Have I ever told you I’m a master at slingshots?” Sam began, proudly boasting. 

“Yes,” Sebastian groaned. “Only every Fall Fair. And then you prove it. And we act like we’re impressed at your… mastery.”

“Aw, thanks for at least pretending. My ego really appreciates that,” Sam cooed. “But I mean… anyway, yeah, the  _ slings.  _ They… don’t actually have that here. But, they  _ do  _ have a shooting gallery game.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you’re a master at that, too?” Sebastian asked, raising a skeptical brow. 

Sam steered them around a corner, apparently following a specific path. “Err, no. Actually, last time I was here, I was too young to play it,” he said with a sheepish grin, “My dad, though, he won it no problem.”

“Imagine that. I wonder why, ” Sebastian said deadpan. 

“It’s probably similar, though. The slingshot and a BB gun… they’re both projectile weapons, right? I bet you anything that I can win it, too,” he challenged. He grinned brightly, as if he just made the best bet in the world. 

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“It really doesn’t, no. But honestly—I’m trying to have fun and make a bet here. Just go with it.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smirk. He  _ did  _ like a good challenge. “Fine, whatever. I’ll take you on.”

“If I win, you stop calling me Goku. I’m fucking serious.” And he was, going from joking and having fun to stopping in his tracks to stare at Sebastian uncomfortably, making sure his point went through. 

Sebastian didn’t even bat an eye, though. “Oh, no. My favourite pastime, gone forever? Fair enough.” He elbowed Sam to start them moving again. “I’ll play it too. See if violent video games really do impact kids. If I win… I don’t know. You get to carry my impossibly-huge or whatever size carnival prize the whole time we’re here,” he shrugged. 

“That’s… tame,” Sam frowned, “I mean to say, that’s shitty and boring.”

“What can I say? I’m not a creative person. Besides, I’d probably just make you buy me shitty fair food. But you literally have all the money while I literally have none—so you already have to,” he huffed. “Poor planning.”

Sam cocked his head, thinking for a moment. “Well, you could still bet for something outside the fair. Like, buying food at Gus’, or something.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right. Okay. If I win, you also have to buy me a pizza at the saloon one night.”

“Ah, shit, really? Dude…”

Sebastian smirked. “Poor planning,” he repeated. “Of course, that’s if I win. But you’ve inherited your dad’s skills, right?”

“Sure. It’s definitely a genetic thing… or something. We’ll see, at least—here,” Sam stopped abruptly again. 

“Cut that shit off,” Sebastian growled after bumping into Sam’s shoulder, meaning full offence. Sam bluntly ignored him, moving to the side. 

They stood before a large, typical-looking game stand fitted with a row of safety-regulated BB guns. It was lit up in rainbows, making the toy prizes that covered the stand look less cheap. Prizes apparently went from shit-tier keychains to comically oversized plushies— giant, purple gorilla plush hung overhead. Sebastian gave it a wary eye; it was more than half the size of him. He silently begged that they wouldn’t win it.

“Oh my god, it’s $5 a try,” Sam gulped. He leaned in and whispered to Sebastian, afraid that the old man in the striped vest behind the counter would hear him. “I can’t believe this is what we’re starting with. I’m an  _ idiot,”  _ he lamented, solemnly pulling out a twenty from his wallet. He sighed and made his way to the booth, slapping the note on the counter. “Four tries,” Sam said to the man. Sebastian could see the pain flash on Sam’s face as the man took his money and put it in a metal box, never to be seen again.

“Two rounds for the both of you?” He asked, unphased by the torment he caused. 

Swallowing his hurt, Sam nodded to the man before signalling Sebastian to step up as well. They went up to their guns, side by side. Sebastian had never been near anything but a virtual weapon before, and even if he knew the air rifle in his hands was little more than an over-glorified toy, he still felt incredibly awkward. Sebastian looked to his side, watching Sam for guidance. Unfortunately for him, though, it looked like Sam had barely any more experience than he did, with his face already scrunched up in concentration. Still, he went with what Sam was doing better—putting the stock against his shoulder and his left hand on the forestock, it ended up feeling a little better. 

“Alright, you see that piece of paper up at the end there? You win when you shoot out the red star in the middle of it,” the carnie explained. Sebastian looked down the row, and huffed with incredulousness when he saw his target: the star was so small he had almost missed it. He really hoped Sam enjoyed that twenty when it was in his wallet, because it was already wasted. 

Finally, when they were set up, there was a brief countdown before they shot. 

Sebastian promptly scared the shit out of himself. 

The rumble of his console controller was barely anything compared to the actual shake of the gun. Even as a toy, the rifle still had a slight recoil that Sebastian wasn’t expecting. It also would have helped to know that the thing was an automatic; he had almost dropped the fucking thing. He paused awkwardly, recovering from his initial surprise, glancing over at Sam—he didn’t have the same reaction, and kept shooting away—before Sebastian lifted his gun back up. He re-aimed at the target, of which he had so far done little damage, and pulled the trigger again. 

Finishing their clips, the boys set the guns down. 

“No!  _ Really?”  _ Sam groaned. Sebastian turned to see Sam staring down his target incredulously, a hand going through his gelled spikes. Apparently, though he had done some good damage to the paper, it wasn’t good enough to warrant a prize. Sam was pretty distraught. “Jeez, that’s lame. You didn’t get it either?” He asked Sebastian.

Sebastian hadn’t really noticed his own target, too preoccupied with not screwing up again. “I… oh, shoot. Looks like I didnt, no.” The red star was still in-tact. 

“Well… this is why I paid for four tries, right?” Sam shrugged.

The man set up the game again, surprisingly quickly. Replacing the targets and switching their guns, they returned to aiming, side by side, waiting for the end of the countdown. And once again, they pulled their triggers.

Sebastian had expected the feeling of shooting on the second time, thankfully. It was still weird, but he was able to control it better. At least, he was able to point in the general vicinity of the paper. Everything else was just kind of squinting his eyes and praying that he actually  _ hit  _ it. When his clip was empty, he let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding, and let his hands down. He turned to Sam, mustering the most cynical look he could. “Good game, dude,” he said, slapping his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Your dad will be proud.”

Sam stuck out his tongue. He was watching the carnie take down his losing target and replace it with a new one, disappointed. “Yeah, alright, Seb. Doesn’t even matter, I’m totally over it. We’ll have better luck at other games. We’ve got other chances to—”

_ “Winner!” _

Sam turned his head so fast Sebastian thought he might’ve gotten whiplash.

“Congratulations, son,” the old man said, standing by Sebastian’s target. In an incredibly messy way, Sebastian had somehow managed to shoot out the red star. “You should have said something!” He guffawed.

“You  _ won?”  _ Sam near-yelled. He grabbed the lapels of Sebastian’s jacket and forced him forward, getting in his face. “How could you!” 

Sebastian’s eyes widened, bringing up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t know! I didn’t look, I didn’t see that I won, that’s my fault.” 

“I mean, why did you have to  _ win,  _ dude?” Sam groaned, letting go of Sebastian and stepping back, his hands flying to his own chest. “What about my pride, Sebastian! I was supposed to win! Or at least, we were both supposed to  _ lose,”  _ he whined, “I feel so betrayed, my heart hurts…”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and pushed at Sam’s shoulder. “You owe me a pizza, loser.” He walked back to the stand, looking at the prizes on the walls and above them. He didn’t want the gaudy gorilla, but the tiger might be cool. Maybe the frog. Or the snake. But there was also a giant unicorn in the corner; he could give that to Maru on her birthday, maybe. She’d hate it. It’d be hilarious.

“You’ve got your choice of a frog prize or a princess unicorn prize,” the carnie snickered.

“Princess unicorn. Obviously,” Sebastian said without hesitation. He smirked, feeling smug.

“Oh… yeah? Sure, son. Congratulations!” The man reached his hand into a bin at the back of the stand and then brought it out, presenting it to Sebastian. 

Sebastian stared at a sparkly unicorn keychain. “I...what?” His face fell hard. “I thought I got… the big one?”

“You gotta work your way up there, kid. There’s prize tiers.” The carnie shrugged and gestured behind him. Sebastian failed to notice the multitude of smaller prizes. 

He felt so disappointed. “I… I guess that’s fair,” he mumbled, taking his price. He looked at the cute, rainbow cartoon horse in his hand and sighed. “Thanks.”

“You gonna put that on your keys, dude?” Sam laughed from the sidelines, having watched the exchanged with an impish grin. “That’s like,  _ sooo  _ cute, it totally goes with your outfit.”

“You shut your mouth, loser,” Sebastian growled. “I  _ won  _ this. What did you win?”

Sam’s grin turned into pursed lips, unimpressed with the sass. “I can tell you what I didn’t  _ lose:  _ my dignity. You wanted a giant unicorn?”

Sebastian flushed, scowling. He marched to Sam and grabbed him by his jacket’s collar, dragging him from the game and back into the fray of the boardwalk. Sam was laughing all the while. “It  _ was  _ for my sister, thanks,” Sebastian huffed. 

“Alright, I can believe that. But still,” Sam chuckled. 

“Shut up. Remember our bet?”

Sam's face immediately turned sour, frowning. “Yeah. You want a pizza. An expensive-ass pizza... I’ll get you one, you don’t have to remind me…”

“Yeah, there’s that. But you also have to hold my prize. Remember?” Sebastian asked. He was trying his best to suppress a smirk as he held out the cute keychain. 

Sam huffed and snatched it from his hand, shoving the unicorn deep into his pocket. “Sure, hotshot. Whatever you want, apparently.” He elbowed Sebastian’s arm. “Watch out, though, I might never wanna give such a treasure back.”

“You can keep it if you really want. I know Maru would appreciate you preventing her from suffering on her next birthday. I’d actually have to put effort into her gift,” Sebastian tutted. 

This made Sam snort, which turned into a full laugh. “You poor baby,” he cooed. “Fine, if it’ll get you to do something  _ nice  _ for her. Which you should definitely do, and not be a dick.” Sam thumbed the keychain in his pocket, the cheap sequins scratching lightly. It was almost a charming so-called gift from Sebastian, if not a goofy one. Originally for Maru or not, he’d keep it like a personal gift. A memento or something—it was sweet.

He could rock a princess unicorn keychain. 

“So, what. More games? Rides? Do they have a scrambler here? I want to go on something exciting. And anything scary.” Sebastian seemed more open to the boardwalk, as he looked around as Sam did—drinking in the sights and sounds with an unbridled curiosity that he hadn’t really showed since who knows when. 

Sam watched him and smiled, feeling warm. “Whatever you want, buddy,” he reached up and patted Sebastian’s shoulder. “Whatever you want, I’m good to give.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shooting games are so hard. They're horrible... I can't shoot out the star, ever...
> 
> Anyway, school is starting on the 6th, and it is going to be terribly busy. I'm not sure how long it will take for the last chapter to be put up, but it might be a while. Most of it is already written, though, so I don't think it will take *so* long... thank you for your patience!
> 
> You can find me here: [I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com)  
> Come say hi!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a little long, so there will be one more chapter after this.

It may or may not have been getting late. 

Late, as in, the attractions were about an hour away from shutting down for midnight, and both Jodi and Maru had texted Sam and Sebastian respectively asking if they were still alright. But in the time they had arrived, they must have perused more than half of everything there. After going on multiple rides that looked dubiously safe and after a few more games—and a few more of Sebastian’s winnings that Sam put with his keys—they had found themselves fully immersed.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Sebastian was basically in a near-constant smile—he could probably pinpoint getting it after the drop tower,  _ shit  _ was that ever fun—whatever plagued him that afternoon was forgotten and replaced with the Zuzu City midway, which, as basic as it was, was amazing in its own right. 

“I don’t know if I want to play another game,” the near-birthday boy mused. He played with the most recent of his prizes in his hand, fiddling with the felt fins of a small shark plush he had gotten from a magnet-fishing game. 

He had done a lot better than Sam in all their betting matches that night. Maybe he should have expected it, considering Sebastian’s talent in pool and the Solarian Chronicles and almost everything else. Nonetheless, it was all still fun. 

“True,” Sam nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’m actually starving. I want  _ food  _ food. Real food, not just cotton candy, believe it or not,” he grinned. “Although, real food kind of still means junk here, anyway. You down?”

Sebastian hummed. He hadn’t realized he didn’t eat a lot that day, save for a microwaved noodle lunch, hot chocolate and a blue candy apple. “I hadn’t really thought about eating,” he admitted. He could usually survive off of very little, though there was a limit to the energy that a piece of fruit, food dye, and hard sucrose could give him. “Is there some sort of… I don’t know, restaurant, around here?”

“Even better,” Sam said with his smile edging into a smirk. “A shitty junk food place, right by one of the piers over the water. The pier itself goes so far out—with a cheap hotdog in hand, it’s both great and awful, all at the same time.” 

“Because a scenic view makes food that clogs your arteries so much better,” Sebastian countered, shooting Sam a questioning look, “I’m not sure how much I believe about its  _ greatness…”  _ he trailed off, thinking, before giving a half-shrug. “Although… I’ll still go, I guess. You’ve been to it before?”

Sam visibly perked up, his eyes pinching warmly in a genuine smile. “With my family, yeah,” he explained, another nostalgic feeling coming to him. “Before Vincent. Before dad got pulled into the war. I remember everything so vividly, like perscription rose-coloured glasses,” he laughed. 

“It’s still open, after all this time?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, the place is like, over 50 years old. It’s a staple, I think. I loved it lots; I even remember where it is, I think. You’ll like it too,” Sam assured. 

Sebastian nodded gently, in the middle of coming up with a response. He didn’t get to say it, though, as Sam saw his nod as a confirmation of leaving. Without a second thought, Sam flashed a smile and his hand reached out, taking Sebastian’s wrist—which made him completely lose the thought of whatever he was about to say—and started to move, tugging and leading the taller boy along. 

Normally, Sam was a touchy person. Abigail, Penny, and even people he wasn’t as acquainted to like Emily and Maru could attest to that: casual hugs and head touching and leaning on people; all the little ways Sam would come in contact with others was just the way he showed his affection, an optimistic and bright friendliness that he seemed to share with almost everyone in town. Out of everyone, however, Sebastian was not usually one of these people. Even as his best friend. 

Undoubtedly, Sebastian was uncomfortable with being touched. Sam knew this and respected him well enough, rendering him only to slight nudges and pats on the back for years. In the present, however, with Sam’s hand around his wrist nonchalantly, Sebastian found that he didn’t actually mind human contact for once. Uneasy feelings about showing affection and guilt about his natural coldness melted away as Sebastian got used to the sensation, replaced with, oddly enough, a sense of comfort. It felt so easy, almost natural to have Sam’s continuous touch, as if his hand had always been there. And yet he didn’t mind, even as their hands were so close they were almost together, and Sebastian bit his lip thinking that if he shifted just a little—

Sebastian’s step stuttered as his face fell completely, feeling a flood of red, burning shame. He walked the rest of the way rigidly, his other hand’s knuckles almost white as he throttled his frustrations into the shark plush, all without his friend—just friend, that’s all he was supposed to be—noticing. 

Sam let go, finally. Thankfully. They had arrived, standing before a small, classic diner with neon lights, at the edge of a long pier, just as Sam had said. Sebastian was sure he’d be more impressed if he hadn’t just thrown himself out of his happy state of mind for being so delusional. 

“I actually had no idea it would be open so late,” Sam hummed cheerfully, satisfied. His hand fell from Sebastian, going relaxed as he appraised the old boardwalk building. “I hope they still make the pizza the same from way back when…” he mused, trailing off.    
He seemed focused on the place as he started to walk to the entrance, with Sebastian dutifully, but stiffly, following. Aside it from being smaller than expected,the interior looked almost exactly how he would imagine a mid-century themed diner. Checkered floor tiles, bright colours, framed black and white photos lining the walls. There just weren’t many booths, with all the vinyl seating already occupied. But the worst thing about it, was that it was filled with teenagers. Sebastian scowled as they settled in line to order. A rabid pack of kids younger than them but still somehow  _ technically  _ old enough to be deemed young adults talked amongst themselves with zeal. Except it was a large pack of them, who weren’t so much talking as practically yelling. 

Sebastian had hoped so hard that they wouldn’t have had to experienced such a rowdy, blatantly buzzed group. He leaned into Sam’s ear. “You chose the absolute worst place you could have,” Sebastian whispered with a seething frown. 

Sam kept himself from frowning as well by pursing his lips, though the corners of his mouth still edged down in contempt. “No, I swear, it’ll still be good… even better when we get out of here.” At least, he hoped it would be worth it. “Just, I dunno. They can be ignored,” he supposed.

Sebastian grunted in response. He was stilted, self-conscious and awkward. Though when Sebastian silently acknowledged his change in behavior, he didn’t think he should have been surprised. After all, he just was back to his normal, sullen demeanor, wasn’t he? 

Being embittered really did nothing to help the situation of being stuck in the cramped restaurant. It made trying to endure the rancorous teens, rising heat, and sickening smell of grease almost unbearable. Sebastian suddenly felt even more on edge than before, increasingly uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but start to get aggravated, even though he tried his best to believe Sam, and try to believe that all the shit in the restaurant and in his life could be ignored.

It really couldn’t be, though. His fingers twitched for a smoke, which wasn’t a great sign. He had forgotten all about the small pack in his back pocket until then. He had to get out of the diner, he just needed one fucking puff to settle his nerves—and then, he found his excuse.

“Oh, Christ, sorry,” one of the kids slurred as an apology after tripping into Sebastian. It had been an accidental stumble, but at that point, Sebastian’s positivity had fled him completely and had been replaced with a biting anger.

After both guys regained their footing, Sebastian’s initial surprise quickly flipped into said anger. “Fuck off, you drunk prick,” he snarled, eyes narrowed and with an elbow shove that sent the boy back into his friends. Sebastian barely noticed the large eyes on Sam, as after Sebastian gave an extra nasty glare to the group in front of them, he wiped a hand down his face and left it over his eyes.

“Hey… Sebastian?”

“I’m going out for a cig,” Sebastian said quickly, shaking his head. He thought he heard Sam start to say something in acknowledgement, but Sebastian had already turned to leave as fast as he could.

“Hey, Seb, wait! What d’you want?”

“Whatever, nachos is cool, thanks,” he grunted.

“And… uh, to drink?”

“God, I don’t know, Sam—I want to get out of here, just… I don’t know,  _ whatever. _ Lemonade, for all I care!” He called back, already pushing open the doors to outside. And finally, as he walked into a wall of cold, salty air, he was free.

Outside was so much more calm, somehow despite the constant music and people. He could already feel his heart starting to settle. Sebastian looked around, and walked. It seemed a lot emptier on the pier, so with a deep breath, he followed the long stretch to about half its length. Leaning against the railing that overlooked the water, Sebastian started feeling calmer with every breath; he looked out to sea, finally able to start ignoring the distractions around him, and lit up a cigarette. Taking a long drag, he started feeling better almost instantly. 

He half expected Sam to find him like a beacon and start chiding him about smoking in public, or about swearing in public, or about pushing people in public... Sebastian didn’t at all expect to hear the small, calm voice of a woman. 

“Hey, can I bum one of those?”

Crinkling his face in confusion, Sebastian turned his head a little to glimpse at the person, making sure he was actually being talked to. And apparently, as she faced him, the woman wasn’t lost or even mistake him for someone else. She actually did mean to speak to him. Admittedly, Sebastian had really just hoped he would have blended in with the dark background of the sea at night, unnoticeable to passers-by. Reluctantly, he decided not to ignore her inquiry. 

Sebastian forced himself not to frown and turned fully to face a girl about his age. She almost looked like Abigail, except she was skinnier and much taller, almost reaching to Sebastian’s height. Dressed in black, with long raven hair, she was someone who he could absolutely see Abigail associating with—as in, a gothic ne’er-do-well. Her face still held a look of expectancy, though, waiting for her answer. 

“Whatever,” Sebastian shrugged, tapping another cigarette out of his pack. She took it, and while he offered his lighter, she waved him off and took out a matchbook from the breast pocket of her leather jacket.

“Thanks.” With that, his task was done. 

Sebastian thought she would leave, and hoped for it, but she instead kept her place beside him and put her weight against the railing as he did. She took a long inhale, needily breathing in the chemicals, and blew a cloud of smoke from her nose before she looked at him again. “I think this is illegal here,” she said with a thin smile. 

“You don’t look like the type to care,” Sebastian answered semi-interestedly. He looked at her, raising a brow. 

She smirked, and only when the orange glow of her cigarette reflected off the metal did Sebastian realize she adorned herself with shark bites under her lips. Classy. 

“Neither do you, actually,” she responded, “And that’s good. All air is fair game, right? Like, who really cares?”

“Nobody. This place is isn’t exactly high-class,” Sebastian remarked gruffly. He had his head turned so that he didn’t face her fully, mostly tilted towards the water. Conversation didn’t interest him. 

“Right?” She laughed. She nodded his way, trying to bring back the attention to herself. “Ebony,” she stated simply. 

Sebastian scoffed, letting his eyes wander away from her. “That’s not your real name,” he accused. “Look at you. You’re wearing more black than I am.”

“I know it’s not,” Ebony said lightly. “And I know I am. A lot less colour than you, totally. Nice socks, by the way.”

Sebastian recoiled from the rail immediately, eyes going wide as he looked down and noticed Sam’s bright pink socks showing below the cuff of his pants. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, quickly bending and trying to stuff them in his shoes while Ebony laughed quietly. 

“Please, I like pink sometimes. It’s fetching on you,” she said between giggles. She waited for Sebastian to stand back up before continuing, “Sorry. I go by a nickname, didn’t think I’d find someone who would actually  _ care…”  _ she clicked her tongue in thought. “I guess I don’t like telling strangers my real name. Is it really all that weird?”

“Yes,” Sebastian answered bluntly. 

She forced a smile. “Ha. Alright. So what about you? I don’t suppose you go by a moniker. You trust people enough to give out your name?”

Since it promoted his business, the answer was a yes, but he shrugged in response anyway. “I dunno. How about you guess?”

Ebony tilted her head and squinted her eyes, staring at him exaggeratedly as if trying to figure out a Mondrian. 

“You look like a Kim to me.”

Sebastian took a puff of his cigarette. “Wow. Close.” 

“Heh. Sick,” Ebony grinned in belief. “Actually, you know what? My friend, is like, super beast at guessing names, ages, freaky shit. She’s legitimately psychic. That’s how she gets someone’s attention when she tries to pick someone up, you know?”

Cringing in skepticism, Sebastian wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to  _ that,  _ of all things. He never believed those oracles on tv or anything... “I guess that’s… one way to flirt,” he tried. “Is she, uh, here? One of the fair attractions, maybe?”

His joke made Ebony laugh lightly into the back of her hand. “Shit,  _ totally,”  _ she nodded. “But, nah. She’s like… not. She was here, though. Abandoned me. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Why did she do that?” Sebastian asked, falling for the bait. 

She looked at him with smirking eyes. “She picked someone up, of course. And brought him home.”

Sebastian’s face fell. “At this shitfest? Gross.”

Ebony rolled her eyes, having the confidence to give him a hip bump. “You make it sound like she made out with a carnie. There’s  _ decent  _ people here, Kim. Like, you’re here too, right?” She actually winked at him, expecting a reaction. She smiled with her eyes. 

Sebastian frowned with his full face. “Nah. I’m pretty shit, actually,” he said, “You wouldn’t like me. Flattered, though,” he finalized, shutting her down.

She was, quite effectively, shut down. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you looked like the type with a thing for lonely smoking goths, I guess,” Ebony admitted, smile faltering. “Or... I thought you  _ were  _ one. Man, I haven’t been getting any luck.” Although her flirting wasn’t reciprocated, she at least stayed light, seemingly a good sport. It made Sebastian a lot more comfortable, realizing he didn’t have to be so curt.

“Ah, well… lonely and smoking, sure. But I think I’m more emo than goth. Goths don’t wear colour or something, isn’t that how it goes? But here I am, rocking the pink socks. Totally emo,” he tried to joke, finally giving her a smile—albeit a sympathetic one. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard all those arguments before… when I was twelve on my first online forum site, thanks. Going by that logic, it could be worse, though. We could be scene,” she laughed. 

Sebastian smirked and nodded deeply in agreement, as if her she had spoken some ancient sage proverb. He was about to open his mouth and say  _ amen  _ before he was interrupted by a far more familiar noise.

_ “Dude!”  _ Sebastian heard Sam call out. He instantly turned, almost sighing with relief as he watched the blond walk away from the diner with armfuls of food. 

He looked to Ebony one last time. “It’s not you. I came with someone.”

“Oh?  _ Oh!  _ Oh, god, sorry, dude,” she sputtered in apology. “I should’ve… ah, man. That makes this even worse...” 

“Wait, sorry, it’s not like that—”

“Not yet? Better make a move, then, it’s getting late.” She turned and looked to Sam, who was quickly approaching, and quirked her head. “Wait. Your  _ thing  _ is for  _ grunge?” _

“Dude, oh my god, that was a nightmare,” Sam groaned as he got near enough to speak normally. “Teenagers are ravenous animals and I am  _ thoroughly _ terrified of them. Please, take your shit,” he pleaded, nudging the food pile towards Sebastian. He huffed and took the basket of nachos and, as Sam apparently took his words seriously, a can of lemonade. This let Sam be free to struggle with opening his can of Joja Cola with his teeth while he precariously held his pizza and fries in his other hand. 

“You need help, man?” Ebony perked up from Sebastian’s side. 

Her unexpectedness startled Sam, and he jumped—almost dropping his food if it wasn’t for Ebony, who practically leapt and miraculously managed to safely catch it. 

_ “Fucking—!  _ Oh my god, I didn’t even notice—I’m so sorry,” Sam rambled. He finally got his drink open, and took back his food. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Ebony smiled politely, shrugging. “Nobody, dude. Just bummed a smoke off your friend. Thanks again,” she said, nodding to Sebastian. “I’ll go. See you,” she said with a wave before walking away from the rail. 

“Oh, she looked cool,” Sam commented, facing the water while he took a drink. 

Sam thought she had been out of earshot. In reality, she had just gone a few steps behind, briefly pausing out of his line of sight; she looked at Sebastian with a toothy grin, giving two thumbs up. She silently and exaggeratedly mouthed  _ GOOD LUCK GETTING SOME!  _ before walking away for real.

Sebastian only frowned, watching her leave. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered to Sam. “Wicked shark bites.”

“You know what? You should look into piercings. That would be great,” Sam laughed, nudging his shoulder before stuffing his face with heavily-vinegared fries. 

Sebastian flicked the butt of his cigarette over the railing into the sea, replacing the emptiness between his fingers with a chip. “Well… hm. If you really think it’d be cool...”

A silence followed, though it was barely calm. Instead, as ravenous men do, they focused little more than on inhaling their greasy diner-fair food. 

Eating was a distraction Sebastian was thankful for; he didn’t have to let his mind wander when he put all his attention on his nachos. A small fear made itself known in the back of his mind, the worry that if he did let himself think of anything more he would end up freaking out again, that he would end up thinking things and feeling ways that he shouldn’t have. Sebastian didn’t want that—didn’t want to ruin the night. He almost had already, hadn’t he? 

He looked up to Sam. The blond was almost finished demolishing his food, unabashedly tearing apart his pizza. Sebastian knew that even if Sam had meant to make Sebastian happy by bringing them there, all Sebastian wanted to let Sam be happy, too. He deserved to be. But Sebastian supposed his mood constantly depleting wouldn’t help.

Sam finally caught notice of Sebastian looking at him and caught his eye. Sam gave him a smile, warm and particularly goofy from a mouth stuffed with food. Sebastian smiled back, slightly. Something small, something to be polite. 

“Are we going home after this?” Sebastian asked. He felt an unpleasant dryness in his throat after saying that, as going back to his dark, solitary room was the last thing he wanted to do. He may not have been feeling good emotionally there at the pier, but his anxiousness would do nothing, if not increase, when they would have to leave. He especially just couldn’t  _ wait  _ to face his parents when he got home...

It almost looked like Sam was trying to give Sebastian an odd look, but with a full mouth, it was hard to tell. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “No, not yet. Wait,” Sam paused to check his phone. He hummed a pleasant note. “Yeah, definitely not yet. We have time for one more thing, if you’re up for it.”

Relief washed over Sebastian, he could at least delay getting back for a little while longer. “I’m not so tired yet, so… sure.”

Almost like he experienced a similar wave of relief, Sam seemed to relax into a smile, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah! That’s awesome. You know what the one thing we haven’t done yet is?” He asked. “The one, glaringly obvious, fairground staple?”

Sebastian blinked at him. “Go to the circus,” he deadpanned.

Sam pursed his lips. “But… clowns are evil,” he muttered. “No, I mean—like, come on! The friggin’ ferris wheel!” Sam threw his hand up, loosely gesturing in the direction of the said attraction. 

Sebastian looked at it plainly. It was just as plain as his look; nothing fancy, nor exciting. He wouldn’t have expected Sam to suggest it. He shrugged, sighing, “Sure. It looks… alright. Rickety, maybe,” he criticized. Everything there didn’t exactly look  _ up to code,  _ but Sebastian hadn’t said anything about it before—he just wanted to complain about something then, maybe, in his general discomfort. “But as long as it doesn’t fall over when we’re on it.” 

“You’re being dramatic,” Sam shot. 

“I hope you’re not surprised,” Sebastian quipped  back. 

Sam huffed a laugh and broke into a smirk, mischievous and adventurous and comedic like he had been trying to be all night. It was almost taxing, having to be his most energetic self for hours. 

For Sam, the enthusiasm he kept was the type of upbeatness he reserved for gigs and shows, but  _ shows  _ didn’t last a quarter of a day… usually. But still, he tried his best, and he would continue to, despite the hour. It was for Sebastian’s sake, and maybe even his own—Sam knew Sebastian’s stance on life, on people; there was an underlying fear that letting Sebastian down equated to Sebastian letting him go. 

It was a bad thought. Sam knew that. But he held his hopes in that it wouldn’t matter as long as he was happy, if the both of them were, and if their relationship—wherever it stood—was alright. That’s why Sam gave his hundredth smile of the night, and led them to the ferris wheel. 

Right near the beach, like it always was, fantastically lit up in rainbows. And yet, when Sebastian gave an unimpressed  _ hmph,  _ Sam was inclined to silently agree. When Sam’s childhood memories had bled into the present they had only made everything seem more grandiose and made him feel lighthearted, up until then. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t feel the same thrill he had previously; maybe because the ride didn’t seem so big any more, or because less people were there to make it seem so important. It might have just been because, ever since they ate, Sebastian had gone much quieter. He had almost seemed to be short with him. Or was it since that girl Sebastian was talking to left?

Sam wondered. 

The line for the ride was sparse and they moved quickly, it was no time at all until they were able to get into one of the cars. Or maybe it just seemed that way, since both boys stayed quiet as they occupied themselves with only their thoughts. Sam chose to sit across from Sebastian, to whom he offered a smile when he looked over. Sam didn’t say anything though, and proceeded to stay silent. Whether out of exhaustion or worries or from running out of things to say, he only opted to turn his head and look at the vast, dark mass of the ocean beside them. There were some lights flickering in the darkness, of ships far out to sea—and the very edge of the shore was lit up by the boardwalk. Overall, it was very… lackluster, somehow the experience felt empty. It wasn’t what Sam hoped for. 

Sebastian was quiet by nature. He looked off to the side the other way, towards the parking lot and the city. It was nice, seeing it from the ferris wheel’s view. It was calm. 

“Thanks for bringing me out here,” Sebastian said off-handedly after a couple of turns around. He didn’t change positions, still looking out.

Sam turned blinked in surprise for a second, not expecting either of them to speak up. He recovered and cleared his throat. “Yeah, no problem. Hope you had fun.”

Sebastian finally looked at him, giving a shallow nod. “Of course.”

Another turn passed, Sam feeling increasingly awkward with each second he let the conversation hang. He understand why he was suddenly having trouble trying to speak. “So…”

“Hm?”

Sam’s mind flitted around trying to think of any inane topic that they could talk about. His thoughts fixated on the girl—something interesting enough, he supposed—so he gave his best cheeky grin and went with it. 

“That chick was… ah, pretty hot,” he said. “All like, in black leathers. Now  _ that’s  _ a city girl.”

“Huh? Well, I guess. If that’s your type,” Sebastian shrugged. “Although… I’ll take a mental note that you’re into leather—that’ll make… pretty good blackmail,” he teased. He leaned back into the old metal seat of the car, looking at Sam with what the blond could only describe as a wary eye.

It was under that gaze that Sam stumbled on his words, flushed. “I—what? What… no! No, I didn’t mean....” Sam’s jaw snapped shut when he saw the corner of Sebastian’s mouth raise in a simple, satisfied smirk. Sam huffed. “Bullshit,  _ not your type.  _ You were right against her. You were trying to wheel with her, yeah?”

“No,” Sebastian said calmly, even under Sam’s pressure. “Although, you are kind of, ah, close. Funnily enough. That girl, she was flirting with me.”

Sam, despite his swagger, didn’t feel particularly  _ good  _ about that piece of information. “Yeah? And?” His jaw felt like it wanted to clamp itself shut, but he asked nevertheless.

Sebastian was slightly distracted—he noticed that they were slowing near the bottom, almost ready to get off. “Well, she asked me if I wanted to go home with her. She wasn’t very smooth about it. I said no, and she left.”

Sam felt his mouth press into a straight line, and pretended that he was surprised by it, as if he wasn’t the one controlling it.

It was getting more and more difficult for Sam to put up a smile respond, but at that last part, he didn’t get the chance to anyway. They reached the bottom, and the ferris wheel’s car doors were opened by the technician. They exited wordlessly, Sebastian ahead of Sam by a step, and started walking.

The whole place became scarce of people. It was so late, and so close to closing, it couldn’t be helped—but still, the emptiness despite the music and lights still on was very… uncomforting.

It wasn’t something that Sam was used to. It wasn’t something that Sam liked, at all. Soon, they ended up near the pier again, following the railing of the dock over the ocean, heading straight towards the exit. 

It was then that Sam’s jaw unclenched. “You should’a gone with her,” he said to Sebastian’s back.

Sebastian stopped in his stride, turning around. He was toying with the plush in his hands as he looked down at Sam curiously. “Sorry, what do you mean?”

Sam frowned—a genuine, serious frown, of which he had no energy to suppress—and gave Sebastian a hard look. “The woman who asked you out, or whatever. You should have… gone home with her. You should have…” he trailed off, his voice tapering into something so small that it was drowned out by the sea. 

“Made her happy?” Sebastian offered. He leaned to the side, putting his weight on the pier’s rail.

Sam shook his head. “Made  _ yourself  _ happy, Sebastian.”

“Ah.” Sebastian looked away, instead tipping his head down and focusing on the water below them. “Nah, though. I don’t think I ever would have agreed.”

Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncertainty kneading his chest and forcing frustration into his throat. “Yeah? Why the fuck not? You’re not--you’re not shy, are you? Country life hasn’t made you soft, has it?” Sam accused. “It’s, you know, your birthday in like five minutes! You could have been doing something  _ nice—” _

“What?” Sebastian choked out with wide eyes. “Sam, I’ve... this  _ has  _ been something nice, I don’t need some girl to... “ Sebastian shoved himself off of the railing, stepping towards Sam tentatively. “I wasn’t interested in her. She was,  _ fine,  _ I guess, but I wasn’t really interested, and--and I told her I was already with someone, so she—”

“Oh, no,” Sam cringed, “You didn’t say no just because of  _ me,  _ did you? Shit, I knew it. God, you idiot.”

“What part of  _ not interested  _ do you not fucking understand?” Sebastian snapped. He took another step, running a hand through his hair. “I… no, I’m sorry, I don’t mean that. I’m just…” Biting his lip, he swallowed thickly. “Sam, are you okay?” Sebastian asked softly.

The realization that he couldn’t recall the last time he was asked that made both Sam’s face fall and his stomach drop. For a second, he stared up blankly. “I don’t know. But that  _ doesn’t matter—” _

“Of course it does, Sam. Please,” Sebastian pleaded, “today was… you know, about you, as much as it was about me… you took me here, you were so excited. Why are you just brushing yourself off?” Genuine concerned filled his voice and made the space between his eyebrows crease with worry. 

“I’m just… I’m just being selfish, honestly,” Sam said, forcing a laugh. “Don’t you think? God, this sucks. All I wanted was for you to be happy,” he said lightly, with a light hand that clapped on Sebastian’s bicep. 

He was about to move it away, but his hand grew heavy and froze when Sebastian put his own steadying hand on Sam’s shoulder. They stood there, locked.

“Why,” Sebastian started, as carefully as his steps, “are we here?”

“For you. Your birthday. Do you think I  _ want  _ to see you having a fucking existential crisis in my bedroom, or at all? I can’t stand that, and I can’t stand it to ever,  _ ever  _ see you like that—it’s, it’s fucking awful,” he said. His body felt heavy, and he supposed that if Sebastian let go of him or if he let go of Sebastian, he would certainly fall.

For what seemed for ages, they stood wordlessly. It was hard, trying to think of what to say. However, with a squeeze of Sam’s shoulder, Sebastian ended up trying his luck. “I am… so sorry. For upsetting you. I feel fucking disgusting, now,” he admitted.

“No, Seb… please don’t. Really. I’m.. if anything, I’m just upsetting myself more and more. Worrying about petty bullshit. Trying to make up excuses for being selfish—”

“I have not seen you be selfish at all tonight, not even once. You’ve given me literally everything. What are you talking about?”

“Of course you haven’t seen me being a self-centered asshole  _ outwardly,  _ I’ve obviously been trying my best to be… to be a good  _ friend,  _ I don’t know, a  _ whatever,  _ because I am terrified of pushing you away and I, like… ah, shit.” Gritting his teeth, Sam let his hand fall. He turned his head away from the midway, facing the dark water. Staring into the nothing of the night was more comforting than looking anywhere else, Sam found, and the sharp smell of salt permeating the air was grounding when he thought of how to phrase all the messy thoughts that had threatened to spill over. “No, I don’t think I’m okay,” Sam said, returning to Sebastian’s earlier question. “I’ve been having fun but everything has been exhausting, you know? I couldn’t… it was all smiles and shit today, man. That’s  _ hard.  _ I did it because… I don’t even really know, it’s like, I guess I didn’t want to be any sort of a prick right after you had a rough day; you deserve better than that.”

“You could’ve been an asshole if you wanted to, Sam,” Sebastian pointed out. “It’s not like I’m anything  _ but  _ that.” He tried huffing a small laugh.

Sam returned the laugh, tilting his head just to the point where he could look at Sebastian from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I know, trust me,” he joked. He shook his head, dismissing himself. “But no. Literally, it’s like… with that girl, for example. That girl, when you said you had the chance to get with her, I was… not happy. Why? What kind of right do I have to feel  _ upset  _ about the prospect of you…” Sam’s face contorted unhappily as he searched for a word, his hand waving vaguely. “Forget it. You get the idea. That’s not cool, as a friend! But I couldn’t help it. The only thing I told myself today was that I am here to make you have the  _ not  _ worst pre-birthday of your life, existential angst cancelled out with… hot chocolate and nachos, of all things. Still, there I was, totally not with the fact that you could have been happier.” He frowned deeply, forcing himself to look down. “It’s twisted ‘n I don’t--I don’t understand. Don’t get why the hell… like, why did I...” Sam legitimately didn’t, for the most part. 

Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with what he might understand. Again, Sam wondered.

“Sam. Sam, I… it’s alright. I kind of get it, I think,” Sebastian said in a mutter. He kept his voice low and close, private in case the scarcely-there visitors or the carnies that were deafened by the music or even the immense mass of the ocean were somehow listening in, could somehow hear the conversation they were having—which may have been one intended for behind closed doors. Sebastian knew, or at least thought he knew, exactly what Sam meant. It was hell, and the feeling that Sebastian got made him literally want to keel over. Yet somehow he kept himself from fleeing from the situation his instincts told him to run from. He was scared, and hopeful, and concerned, but his curiosity trumped all as he slotted himself right in front of Sam. “I don’t want to see you upset either, alright? That’s… fucked, too.”

“Like, I guess, but, I’m just… worried.”

“What for?” Sebastian prompted. 

Sam laughed with slight bitterness, coupled with a shrug. “Come on, what do you think? Just with everything, literally everything, I have something to worry about when I think of it too much. Big, constant things being my whole struggling career, how I’m going to survive in our dead-end hamlet, my dad fighting to recover and to adjust to everything…” he raked a hand through his hair, despite it being styled to perfection, mussing it up. That with the rising whine in his voice and the inability to look straight gave good insight on all his tension. “Now, it’s like, what if I fuck up here? And I mean, letting you down, ‘cause literally, when I say this is all about  _ you,  _ it literally is—” Sam spoke rushedly, barely pausing for breaths. “—I am  _ selfish  _ because I’m terrified of you not being happy with me and, that feeling  _ sucks,  _ so I do everything I can for you to like me,” he continued.

“But I  _ do  _ like you, I’m not just going to throw you away!”

Sam didn’t seem to acknowledge Sebastian’s words. “I’m sickened even further now that I’m getting--getting  _ jealous  _ and  _ envious _ about awful things like sharing your attention with a nice pretty girl even though I never have before, not with Abigail, though I guess that’s just because she’s spoken for—I have so much fucking respect for her and the both of them and I’ve wanted to be so open about how I feel but I rely so heavily on my image, like a self-centered  _ moron—” _

“Sam! Will you listen to me for a second?” 

“I know exactly why I’m like this and it’s terrifying, it’s not something I ever thought I’d have to think about, and I don’t understand-- I don’t understand why I can’t just be happy with what I have, why I can’t just… with Penny, and I...this just makes everything so much harder, and awkward, I don’t know what to think or to feel and I especially don’t know if it’s good or if it’s bad or if it’s super bad that, out of all people, I had to get mixed up with how I feel about my  _ best friend—”  _

Under all the colourful, constantly changing neon that shone on the both of them, Sebastian’s heart swelled the same time as his throat closed. He had never been good with words, but at that moment, more than any other time, he realized that anything he said would be more fragile and more piercing than glass. So he was silent as Sam poured his guts out. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take action.

Under all the fluorescent lights in the dark, Sebastian leaned in, taking his chance by silencing Sam’s rambling with a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have sooo many comments about this chapter, but I'll just condense it: I love Ebony, her real name is Margo, and I'm so excited to have Sam and Sebastian kissin' 'n' stuff. But how will they react?? Who knows!! Guess you'll just have to wait for the next (and final) chapter... 
> 
> Anyway, it be posted soon. Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me here: [I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com)  
> Come say hi!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy birthday.

It’s not that Sebastian regretted kissing Sam, it was just that… it was, admittedly, a really bad kiss. 

It wasn’t like Sebastian ever had any practice before, but even then. 

Sebastian had been so focused on meeting Sam’s lips with his that he didn’t quite take some things into consideration—things like his force, his angle, and that Sam was definitely not prepared for any sort of kiss  _ at all.  _ It embarrassingly resulted in Sebastian hitting Sam’s nose with his while trying to force in a kiss to Sam’s mostly open mouth from still being in the middle of his rant. 

It didn’t take long for Sam to realize what happened, as he froze and clamped his jaw shut in shock. Sebastian hurriedly pulled away as  _ he  _ realized what happened, and threw his hand over his mouth without being sure if they were connected for even a second. They stared wide-eyed at each other, silenced, for what seemed like eons while they tried to put together their thoughts into words and actions in a comprehensible manner. After a heartbeat, at the same time, they both started to speak frantically as everything spilled over. 

“Oh my fucking god, that was awful, I’m  _ awful—” _

“Was that a kiss?”

Sebastian paced along the pier, walking back and forth and tugging at his hair while Sam had to hold onto the railing to keep himself upright. 

“I hit our  _ noses!” _

“That was a fucking kiss!”

“I can’t believe I did that, oh my god, I actually did that—”

“Oh my god, you kissed me!” 

Already feeling what he supposed to be the imminent hurt, Sebastian swivelled around to face Sam and bite the bullet. “Sam, I, I really wanted to—I thought you wanted—” he whimpered, struggling to find words, feeling more awkward and more flushed than he ever had been. “I’m so sorry, I just really thought you wanted… um...”

Sam gave out a laugh, but it was out of surprise rather than biting and cruel, which Sebastian hadn’t really been expecting. “So, so you, in the middle of when I was talking, you…”

“I thought there were signs! I thought I was reading all the signs right!” Sebastian tried. 

Sam was rubbing his nose where Sebastian hit him, beginning to form a smile, which was beginning to form a grin. “I… no, you’re right! I was--I was trying to say… yeah!” Sam laughed again, having as much trouble trying to form sentences as Sebastian was. “I… I can’t believe, I, uh…” he bit his lip. “Are you into me?”

Sebastian frowned, scoffing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Sam’s supposed lightheartedness about the situation; it made Sam hard to read and Sebastian nervous—not that he’d admit that, anyway. He instead gave a look of disbelief and continued. “I  _ kiss  _ you and you ask me if I’m  _ into you?”  _ He tried to say it almost bitingly, trying to fish out the snide comments that Sebastian thought  _ might  _ have came, but… there was nothing. Sam replied by slowly nodding his head, still beaming. Sebastian, flustered and frustrated and apparently proven wrong, looked away. “I obviously  _ am,  _ genius.”

Sam brought up his hand, a few fingers lightly pressing at his lips as if he could feel the way Sebastian kissed him just by touch. He ended up smiling bright into his palm. “That’s good. Yes. Literally, I… I’m so, actually so happy, right now, this is so fucking bizarre, I’ve been lamenting and complaining and I was just going to try and explain—” Sam stopped himself, letting his hand drop, and letting himself lose his mask completely. “Sebastian, I think I like you,” he tried saying calmly but still managing excitement to leak into his words. He then really wasn’t able to stop himself from enjoying the way Sebastian went even redder. Sam stepped forward, and, while still a little tentative, reached for Sebastian’s wrists. 

The taller boy let him have them, and Sebastian was pulled gently forward. It took a second before Sebastian took charge and slipped his hands back, putting them directly in Sam’s. Sebastian’s frustration ended up fading, but his blush still hadn’t. He could barely look Sam in the eye, he was so nervous about what was happening—he wasn’t even sure if it  _ was  _ happening. “I…” Sebastian began in a mutter, “I think I kind of, you know. It’s just. Shit, dude… I think I kind of like you too, a lot, or whatever,” he managed. “Yeah.” He furrowed his brows, looking at his feet. “This is so fucking weird.”

Sam blinked once. “It’s… sorry, weird? Do you want to, um, not… do this…”

Sebastian’s head shot up. “No! I didn’t mean that!” He kicked himself, groaning. “I just meant that, I didn’t think, not in a million years, I’d ever actually… try my luck, and do something about  _ this,  _ and I never thought that… ah, fuck, do you actually get it? I mean— _ reciprocate?” _

Sebastian felt like a young teenager, only on the cusp of maturity and understanding how to deal with feelings. He was supposed to be older than that, better than that, but all of his stoic adulthood came crashing down on him when presenting, out of all things, how he actually felt about an infatuation.  _ A crush.  _ There was no other time in Sebastian’s memory that he could recall feeling like a 14-year-old girl quite as much. Any other time, the absurdity would make him gag.

Sam perked up, squeezing Sebastian’s hands. “Oh my god, yeah,” he laughed. “And, I understand what mean, actually. I know it’s kind of, um, strange. Best friends ‘n all. But I hope it’ll never get to  _ bad  _ strange, ‘cause I mean, you’re my best friend, right? This isn’t something I wanna mess up…” Sam shrugged, shaking his head. “Nevermind. But hey man, you really need to  _ try your luck _ more often, ‘cause it is  _ great,”  _ he grinned, “After all—you’re pretty superb at winning games and getting prizes,” Sam joked with a click of his tongue.

Managing a gentle smile, Sebastian agreed. He sighed, next. “I’m sorry for pummelling your face with my face.”

Sam snorted. “Uh. Wow. That’s the best way to describe a shitty kiss I’ve ever heard. Or, actually, any kiss,” Sam nodded appreciatively. “Sorry, I kid. Sorta. And, Seb, It’s totally alright!” He bit his lip, considering his next choice of words. “Since after all, you can always just... make it up to me…” Sam trailed off, smirking.

“Oh... Oh! Yeah? I can, can I?” Sebastian hummed, starting to take on a lighter tone. 

_ “Mmhm.” _

“Why don’t you tell me how.”

“Oh, I dunno… but there’s got to be soo-oomething...”

“Well, uh, maybe I know.”

“Ooh, do you, now?”

“Maybe…”

They stood locked for far longer than what was necessary. It was… uncomfortably awkward. 

Sebastian sighed again. “God, I’m so bad at this. Unsurprisingly bad, I’m sorry. So… Sam. May I?”

“Well you didn’t care to ask  _ before— _ ah, whatever,” he tutted. “Dearest Sebastian, I cordially invite you to fucking smooch my goddamn face.”

Sebastian blinked, raising his brows. “Oh. Okay, that works.”

They acted in slow motion. With trepidation from both parties, coming together was a slow process, albeit more exciting than painful. Hands moved to looping around neck and waist, settling easily, and bringing them closer until Sebastian had the nerve to lean his head down and Sam felt calm enough to close his eyes.

The kiss was gentle, and  _ actually  _ a kiss that time, without any butting of heads at all. Any trace of timidness was quickly shed away as they fell into each other, both Sam and Sebastian growing confidence as they realized that what they were doing was real—far from any sort of dream, being able to feel each other so vividly and intensely that it was almost like their skin was burning wherever they met. Still, it wasn’t like they ever had much practice in the subject. The contact was ultimately short-lived, with Sam pulling away when he threatened to lose balance while standing on his toes trying to reach up. They weren’t quite left breathless—speechless, maybe—but had matching grins when they looked at each other again.

Sebastian toyed with the frayed edges of Sam’s denim jacket, his grin edging on smug. “Cool.”

“You’re so poetic,” Sam laughed.

In response, Sebastian shifted, tugging Sam towards him with what seemed like only a little force, but ended up having them with their chests flushed. Sebastian was planning to dive back for another kiss, closer and more confident, but he halted and twisted his face when he felt something odd with Sam’s sternum. Something squared and hard was digging into his chest from under Sam’s jacket. Sebastian stilled for a moment, before he stepped away.

“What is that?” He asked, taking away his hands from Sam’s hips to gesture at the thing. 

Sam thought for a second before getting an excited look, his eyes widening as he whipped out his phone from a pocket. “What time is— _ oh!”  _ He looked up at Sebastian, his grin even wider. “Happy birthday, Sebastian! It’s midnight!” Turning his phone so Sebastian could see, Sam presented the time proudly. It was 12:02 am.

Sebastian looked at Sam, faking a disappointed pout. “I technically wasn’t born for another four hours, but thanks.”

Sam waved him off, tucking his phone away again. “Technicalities are stupid, time is relative, and I’m not waiting here all night to do this thing…” Sam parted his jacket and reached for an inner pocket. “Early present time!”

Sebastian sighed, smiling again. He lazed contently against the pier guard rail. “What, as if all this wasn’t present enough?” He had gestured the the park, and then to Sam. 

The blond gave him a look, huffing a laugh. “That’s real cute. But  _ no,  _ of course it wasn’t enough. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give you—” Sam took the brown paper package out from his jacket, holding it in his hand triumphantly, “—a representation of materialistic values in modern society!  _ Yay!”  _ _  
_ He laughed casually, as if being so close to Sebastian while joking and being sarcastic and messing around was the most natural thing in the world. However… it probably was. Other than being more intimate, Sebastian felt as if very little had changed. Sam was still able to find humour when with him, and Sebastian still felt the same ease and breathability with Sam as he always did. Maybe even moreso, now that he was free to admit everything he wanted to between them.That realization came as a relief to Sebastian, but also a sort of thrill. It made him more excited for what was to come—namely at that moment, what Sam’s gift could be. 

Sebastian plucked the small thing out of Sam’s fingers, and was surprised to find it light as a feather. He turned it over in his hand, looking at the shape and wrapping. 

“There’s x-ray goggles in there,” Sam snarked, “So next time you stand looking at presents like an idiot you’ll actually be able to know what’s in them without opening them. I know tearing paper is  _ so hard,”  _ he sighed. 

“You’re really funny,” Sebastian deadpanned.    
He took the hint and put his finger under the paper and trailing it along the taped seams, delicately tearing the paper and before folding it open completely. Sam watched intently, trying to suppress a smile as the gift was revealed to Sebastian. His eyes widened on seeing the small thing: rectangular plastic, manufactured black with two white spools and a white label. The label read, in Sam’s messy handwriting,  _ Sebwave,  _ with a tilted  _ ;D  _ face scribbled beside it. In tiny script below the title, Sebastian could just make out  _  By Sam A. _ . 

It was a cassette tape. Just the tape, nothing else; not even a card to say what was on the mix.

“Shit, I love it,” Sebastian muttered.

Sam barked a laugh, standing back on his heels. “Exactly! I knew you had good taste.  _ C’est très  _ retrowave _ ,  _ of course,” he explained with a nonchalant shrug and an excited grin, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And, well, I guess you’ll have to listen to it to find out more about, yeah? It’s so good. I didn’t think you owned any tapes yourself—for some unforgivable reason, you goon—so… hey! Fixed that.”

Sebastian thumbed the cassette, looking it over. “Yeah, you’re right, I don’t. Didn’t. But, you know… for good reason.” Tapping the plastic, he gave Sam a questioning but timid smile. “I don’t live twenty years in the past. I don’t actually have a cassette player, Sam.” 

“Ah. That…  _ could  _ be a problem…”

“Probably.”

“Except it isn’t a problem at all,” Sam grinned. Sebastian looked at him silently, waiting for Sam to continue, “Because, you know what? I do. You know I have all sorts of cassette decks, my guy,” he winked, nudging Sebastian. “Guess since you don’t have any of your own, you’ll just have to play it at my place, hmm?”

Sebastian let out a breath, rolling his eyes. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you. This was your plan all along?” He couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

Sam put his hands up in defense, shaking his head in turn. “You’re not going to believe me, but like, no, no at all. It was never meant to be suggestive! Pure coincidence, I freaking swear.” He let one hand drop, and went to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “But it’s not so bad, I hope?”

Sebastian felt a warmth in his chest grow, and the feeling made it impossible to resist ducking his head down and pressing a chaste kiss to Sam’s cheek. “Ha. Either way, it actually is pretty bad,” he tutted, close to Sam’s ear. “Mixtapes are super cheesy.  _ So  _ bad. But, still, I love it. Thank you,” he said.

With the closeness coupled with the quick kiss, Sam’s thoughts wandered. “Hey, um, I have a question,” Sam started, “Are we going to,  _ um,  _ date, now?” He looked up at Sebastian earnestly. “I mean, I think I’d like that.”

Sebastian cocked his head. “I never thought you would be particularly nervous when you finally decided to ask someone out,” Sebastian noted amusedly. “Funny. But, actually… yes. If you want to, I would like that too,” he admitted. “But again: only if you really want to.” He watched as Sam brightened, nodding. 

The two were only pulled out of their little world when they noticed that the scenery around them suddenly grew darker. They turned to look at the boardwalk, noticing that it had officially shut down for the night, with all the main lights and the music shutting off. The neon glow around them sadly disappeared, and they were only left with the lampposts on the pier. It took them out of their reverie, and they finally realized they really weren’t supposed to be there. 

Sebastian secured his gift in a pocket where he wouldn’t lose it. He sighed before turning to Sam and sharing a look, starting to wordlessly walk towards the exit. Unexpectedly to Sebastian, though, when Sam fell in-step beside him, the blond angled his hand to be brushing Sebastian’s. The light, inconsistent touch was electric, and a look from out the corner of his eye revealed to Sebastian that Sam was taking curious glances at him as well.  

Sebastian felt confident enough to take Sam’s hand, and did so happily.

They made idle chatter while walking along the side of the road towards Sam’s truck. It was nothing important, though Sebastian wasn’t sure if it should have been, since not ten minutes prior they had officially decided to be…  _ together.  _ They would be boyfriends together. That was a weird enough thought on its own, and whenever he or Sam brought it up, it was met with nervous giggles and awkward blushing unbefitting of either of them—though they didn’t try to stop themselves. Even if the whole concept was still new and odd, there was no sense in letting go. Despite the unfamiliarity, in the end, it was pretty… nice. Sebastian thought so, at least, feeling lighter than air whenever Sam would give a securing squeeze of his hand.

The only downside was when they actually reached the truck. Tragically, it meant separating. With an unhappy sigh, Sebastian released Sam and their hands parted. Sam, however, didn’t seem to be ready to part fully just yet—he backed himself up to lean against the panels of the truck bed and reached out, grabbing for Sebastian’s jacket and pulling the other boy towards him. Sebastian complied and let him be tugged easily, smiling into the kiss that Sam dragged him down for. 

They kissed languidly until they had to pull away for air. “Thank you, for everything,” Sebastian said quietly during the break.

“I should be the one thanking you. I mean, I am really,  _ really  _ digging this. Plus, you let me live out my little kid fantasies by letting us come here, which is… pretty cool of you,” Sam shrugged.

“Aha, sure, Sebastian hummed. “But, really… I know I was being miserable earlier. A complete existential idiot. You didn’t have to try to make me happy, didn’t have to take me out here or give me… give me a chance,” he paused to clear his throat, “You still did, though. So I mean. I don’t know what else to say but thanks.” He paused for a second, looking up at the sky as he thought out his next sentence. The clouds seemed to be dissipating, but the sky was too polluted by city light to see the stars. It’d be better back in the valley, which Sebastian looked forward to. “Can I tell you something serious? It’s hard to admit, but… I don’t know. I think I’ve been into you for a while. Is that weird? I never actually… allowed myself to think about it. I’ve never had the courage to do that, let alone actually, um, ask you out.”

Sam looked at him sympathetically, chewing his lip. “Yeah. Like, I know it’s hard, trust me… but, shit, I’m glad you acted, huh? _Act now_ _without delay_ , ‘n all that,” he quoted.

Sebastian cocked his head. “Oh. I know that one—Beauvoir, right?” 

“No?” Sam furrowed his brows. “I thought that was… shit, wait, which one’s Beauvoir?”

“Maybe you should stop trying to recite philosophy,” Sebastian said blankly. 

Sam sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I swear I know them, I just, you know.”

“Forget.”

“Mmhm.”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said with a light laugh. “I got you.” 

They stood there for a second, Sam making no incentive to move. Sebastian didn’t blame him, they were both pretty tired. Not to mention… the contact was nice. Sebastian supported the both of them, giving them a moment to breathe before they actually had to go back.

There were some other people who were still around, as well, though Sebastian hadn’t paid any attention to them. He looked around for no other reason than to keep his eyes from closing tiredly, since the warmth Sam exuded didn’t help in Sebastian’s effort to not fall asleep early after his stress adrenaline started to fade. However, up ahead under one of the tall, dimly-lit street lights, something specific caught his eye and he couldn’t help but stare: two women walked side-by-side, but pressed into each other. The one was a ginger that Sebastian didn’t recognize, but… the other had long, black hair, draped down her back over a black leather jacket paired with black leggings and boots. 

Sebastian couldn’t see their faces, with their backs turned to him. Nevertheless, he gave a  _ hmph.  _ With an assumption in his mind and a smirk growing on his face, he muttered, “Good luck getting some.”

“Sorry, what?” Sam asked, lifting his head, not having heard exactly what Sebastian said.

Sebastian only rolled his eyes and gave a laugh. “Sorry, it’s nothing. We should probably go home, dude. You’re falling asleep on me.”

Sam furrowed his brow, giving a sharp shake of his head. “No, I’m not. I’m  _ fine.  _ And I’ll have you know, I have enough money left over for gas  _ and _ coffees, so basically, I’m perfect and I’ll be even better after I order an extra-large black. Fine, let’s go.” 

They pushed off of each other, though Sebastian regretted the loss of warmth. Even as the heater was blasting in the truck and the coffees in-hand after they had drove a little through the city towards the way back home, it was incomparable to the feeling that would only be temporarily lost as Sam drove, but Sebastian still mourned for it.

As they broke city limits, it had grown quiet again. Sebastian contorted in his seat to reach into one of the pockets of his jeans, taking out the tape Sam had given him. He looked at it, reading the label again, but before he could put it in the player as he’d planned, Sam unknowingly interrupted him.

“Being so serious is weird. I never really wanted to grow up, but you know what? Time and space hurdles us through aging without any way of stopping, it’s not like we can help it. It’s crazy, but if shit isn’t so bad for me now, it can’t be that bad for us later, I don’t think,” Sam said out of the blue, staring ahead at the road. 

Sebastian thought for a second, playing with the cassette tape in his hands. The way Sam spoke gave Sebastian a sense of finality. Yet it wasn’t crushing—rather, it was somewhat comforting. Sebastian legitimately felt alright for once, not so worried about the past or present or future. Maybe he didn’t have to care about what his mother or his stepfather thought, and maybe he didn’t have to dread his birthday or any future ones ever again. Really, only time could tell. 

“I don’t think so either. Not any more.” 

“Hah. Cool. Happy birthday again, dude—I literally cannot wait to tell Abigail about what happened.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“You want to stay over tonight?” Sam seemed hopeful. “Just… to chill.”

Giving a drawn-out sigh, Sebastian gave the slightest of nods. “Right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Finally, he ejected the tape they had left in the truck’s player from earlier and put in his new one, to which they drove along with for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finis! 
> 
> I'm very proud to have finished this! This is my first chaptered fic I've completed and I'm so happy with how this went. Thank you so much for all your kudos, comments, and support! All the positive feedback really helped me through trying times and I couldn't be more grateful.  
> On a side note, I really considered making an actual 8tracks mix for Sebastian's cassette ... I might still. 
> 
> Also, if you have the time, check out my commissions.  
> It would really help me out if you considered getting a piece of writing (or art, soon) from me.
> 
> As always, you can find me here: I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.  
> Thank you so much for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.  
> Come say hi!


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